the better truth

the better truth

Monday, January 16, 2012

X (1992 Spike Lee film about Malcolm X)

Much Ado About Malcolm

There is a rumor that there exists a person who has not heard of the opening of Spike Lee's X, but it has been unconfirmed. No film in my lifetime has received has much publicity. "Scientific American" seems to be the only periodical which has not given its cover over to Mr. Lee, Denzel Washington (the actor who plays Malcolm X) or Malcolm himself. According to the New York Amsterdam News, one of New York's leading black newspapers: " 'X' merchandising has yielded $100 million in sales from caps, T-shirts, jackets, trading cards, posters, key chains, wristwatches, buttons, drinking mugs, refrigerator magnets, pins and air fresheners." All this prior to the film's opening. Batman eat your heart out. It lacks propriety to liken a movie about a comic book super-hero with one which tells the "real" lifestory of a murdered American revolutionary. Unfortunately the marketing of these films begs the comparison. Seeing all the "X" paraphernalia brought back memories of the "bat" craze. Putting questions of decency aside it is difficult to walk anywhere and not encounter the "X". Students of sociology can wrestle with its significance while students of advertising can marvel its popularity. Students of film, however, have little to mull over. Perhaps the most ironic aspect of X is, filmically speaking, its irrelevance. It is, however, an important work in another context.

Mr. Lee deserves much credit for persuading the Hollywood establishment to serve up some meaty fair. A high budget epic about the life of a black '60s radical is not exactly business as usual. The discussions over the final running time of a 31/2 hours must have been harrowing. Given the movie industry's penchant for making films with no social relevance (a perusal of the newspaper advertisements of the newest crop of Hollywood features makes the case- Under Siege, Candyman, Traces of Red, Dracula, Passenger 57, Aladdin, Home Alone 2…) the significance of Mr. Lee's endeavor should not be underestimated. He fought the good fight and won. Perseverance is a cardinal attribute in being a filmmaker but there is also the craft of filmmaking itself.

A good film biography lets the audience "experience" the subject. (e.g. Lenny, Patton) X gave made me the feeling that I had read an in-depth, favorable, magazine profile. The events were there, but the man wasn't. This was a re-enactment of facts, not an interpretation of a life. Mr. Lee begins with Malcolm's teenage years in Massachusetts. Stylistically he chooses fantasy over reality. Mr. Lee's "Boston: during the war years" is reminiscent of the set of "Guys & Dolls". The director also chooses to cast himself as Malcolm's goofy, but likable, sidekick. The saccharine setting is occasionally punctuated with flashbacks which illustrate Malcolm's brutal childhood. This fairy tale approach, peppered with revelations horrific childhood, does serve to soften the early criminal misdeeds of young Malcolm. It also undercuts the serious achievements of a mature Malcolm. Malcolm's re-incarnation, during his incarceration, marks a stylistic change of gears. The film moves from pure fantasy to contrived reality. Spike & Denzel are no longer sporting zoot suits and executing choreographed dance sequences. Malcolm finds religion and the film takes on a more somber tone. The problem for an audience is accepting the re-born man as "real". The best illustration of this could be seen where the camera pans around a street in Harlem to compare Malcolm X's preaching to that of other pastors. The controversial Rev. Al Sharpton was chosen for a cameo. Politics aside, personalities aside, the Rev. Al was more compelling than Mr. Lee's Malcolm. Sharpton's "realness" highlighted the staginess of the early Malcolm. Rev. Sharpton had him beat from the start; or rather because of the start.

The adult portrayal of Malcolm, although more "real" than the early years, was, nevertheless, contrived. It had the feel those television dramas in which the characters indicate, rather than act. The resulting action becomes forced. This rang true in all the major plot twists: his conversion to Islam, his marriage, his split from the Nation… The acting was professional, the facts were relevant but the overall effect was unconvincing. The confrontation with the New York City Police is a case in point. In this sequence Malcolm hears that the cops have unjustly beaten and seized a fellow Muslim. There are echoes in the crowd of "All you preachers like to talk but when it comes to action you can't deliver". Quickly cut to the police station where Malcolm is being treated rudely by the red neck looking cops. He asks them to look out the window where there are two neatly formed lines of well dressed Muslims. They relent and let him see the prisoner. Malcolm finds him near death and shouts "Get an ambulance!". An ambulance arrives. The cops ask him to dismiss the crowd. He refuses, "Not until I'm satisfied". He turns to the Muslims and shouts "To the Hospital". On they march. The demonstration in front of the hospital is loud and angry. The cops are scared. The captain begs him to dismiss the crowd. A doctor walks out of the hospital and introduces himself as the man in charge. He re-assures him that his companion will recover and is receiving the best care available. Malcolm turns to the angry mob. He holds up his hand and they fall silent. He gives a quick gesture and they march away. The red neck captain stands in disbelief. Despite the logic and factual accuracy, the overriding cause-effect rigidity suffocates the sequence. Life is not that wooden. Nothing is ever that pat and simple. No doubt this incident occurred. Undoubtedly it did not occur as it was shown.

The film's stylistic failures are not as troubling as its structural flaws. Mr. Lee did his homework but not his thinking. He turned in a work which is substantial but not substantive. The most important question a filmmaker needs to address when tackling a biography is: what does this person's life mean to me? Mr. Lee ignored the issue. He gave us what everyone would believe to be the hallmarks of Malcolm X's life (e.g. his father's murder, his family being divided, his imprisonment, his conversion, his marriage…) and asks the audience to figure it all out. Mr. Lee seems decidedly undecided. He gives us the fire of Malcolm's anger in the opening credits and closes with a universalist plea for peace complete with schoolchildren from America and Africa and a guest appearance by Nelson Mandela. This is all sandwiched in between a tepid, sanitized re-enactment of the facts of his life. Mr. Lee never bothered to ask himself the big question. There can be many reasons for the director's vagueness: fear of alienation, fear of offending a particular party, pressure to bend to an accepted point of view… Unfortunately the reason reflected in the film's actual execution would be, laziness.

X is sloppy . There are a number examples of editing which seem motivated by poor planning rather than artistic desire. (e.g. the jump-cut in the middle of the scene in which Malcolm gives his gangster mentor the disputed number, the non-sensical camera angles used to show Malcolm with his "good-girl" lover on the beach, the close-up on a tea cup to indicate a transition to a house…) Even when Lee is using his trademark head-shot montages he seems off the mark. The epilogue contains this stylistic signature by having a series of school children entering frame in close-up repeating the line "I am Malcolm X". The shot begins in a classroom in Harlem and ends in a classroom in Soweto with Nelson Mandela acting as the teacher. This device relies on rapid fire movement for its success. It works beautifully until the camera parks on Mr. Mandela. All that was needed was his visual image to make the point; at most give him a quick line. Instead Mr. Lee breaks the symmetry of the sequence by having him give a small speech. This undercut the effectiveness of the entire epilogue. Less of Mr. Mandela would have given more resonance to the closing. And as a corollary, less of Malcolm would have given more life to the film X. Mr. Lee, in his previous work (e.g. Do the Right Thing) has demonstrated he can do better.


What is Mr. Lee's motive in choosing a movie about Malcolm X? He contends he needed to portray the life a historical figure in order to educate the general public. His critics call it a tasteless exploitation a controversial black figure in order to further Mr. Lee's career. Casting himself as the likable side-kick does little to aid his defense (not mention the drag it puts on the telling of the story). Oliver Stone was harshly criticized for taking liberties with historical characters in J.F.K.. It is easy to accuse Lee of taking the process one step further: literally inserting his persona into what purports to be a historical biography. Aside of this small blemish of blatant vanity, the film reveals a director who is neither saint nor devil . This film is neither a malicious stepping stone or an important cinematic experience. Unlike the plotline of the movie, real life isn't so simple. X is a confusing, mish-mash of contradictions: artistically bland, commercially revolutionary, sociologically important, filmmically insignificant… Perhaps focusing on the film misses the point. Mr. Lee, not Mr. X is the real star here. He didn't need to cast himself in the film. He is firmly ensconced in our gallery of cultural icons. To analyzes the nuts and bolts of X is the equivalent of believing James Dean's importance lies in his contributions to the art of acting. As Public Enemy states on their album "Fear of a Black Planet":


As I walk the street of Hollywood Boulevard,
Thinking how hard it was for those who starred, in the movies
Portraying the roles, of butlers and maids, slaves and holes

Many intelligent black men seemed,
To look uncivilized when on the screen,
Like I guess I figured you, to play some jigaboo
On the plantation, what else can a nigger do.

And black women in this profession,
As for playing a lawyer? Out of the question.
For what they play Aunt Jemima is the perfect term
Even if now she got a perm.

So lets make our own movies like Spike Lee
Cause the roles being offered don't strike me
As nothing the black man could use to earn.
Burn Hollywood Burn!


To say that Spike Lee is a part of the Hollywood establishment misses the point of the song. It would be the equivalent of expecting everyone who wears an X hat to know the facts about Malcolm himself. This is the world of pop-culture where the overriding message wins-out over attention to details. Whether or not Mr. Lee is revolutionary filmmaker with a black consciousness is less important than the fact that he is a black voice that has risen to be heard by America at large. He has made it despite the appalling record of exploitation of blacks in the film industry. In a similar vein, the wearing of the X signifies a tribute to a black man who stood up to the white establishment. Anyone who wonders why such a point should be made might have a conversation with someone waiting on line for X. As a veteran movie-goer the crowds possess a more serious attitude towards this film. This isn't entertainment in the usual sense, this is perceived as "important". In the Times Square theater where I viewed it, there were the usual cat-calls from the rowdies, but not one audience member left during the entire 31/2 hours. It is easy to take Mr. Lee to task technically. There will always be raging debates about his historical accuracy and his personal morality. But all this fails to take note of his effectively using film as a springboard for difficult social commentary. Whether one likes the X, the alternative is far more terrifying. We all have Mr. Lee to thank for liberating us from the "bat".

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Antonioni (1992 NY Film Society Retrospective)

Antonioni: A Better Truth

The New York Film Society in conjunction with the Italian government is sponsoring an Antonioni retrospective. They have chosen to showcase his work chronologically. It is now the middle of the cycle and his style can be witnessed in its full bloom. Antonioni is, without doubt, a revolutionary. His work, especially this period, challenges the established relationship between the medium and the audience. Traditional conceptions of characterization, storyline, camerawork, settings… are all upset. There have been film journals brimming with interpretations of the significance of the work. But by far his greatest achievement was to force film audiences to rise above being passive spectators. Upsetting the status quo has never won anyone popularity contests. His films are not universally loved, but they are respected. "Alienation" and the "impossibility of love" are not themes which would garner blockbuster status. Antonioni chooses them, not once, but for the bulk of his work. This is especially true during the middle of his career (some would say the apex) 1957-1964 where he made Il Grido (the Cry) L'Avventura (the Adventure), La Notte (the Night), L'Eclisse (the Eclipse) and Il Deserto Rosso (Red Desert). Ironically behind the stark images and the isolated protagonists lies a religious sense of optimism about the medium. Antonioni may not have faith in relationships but he believes in film; and by default, the audience at large.

Yesterday, I saw La Notte. What struck me was the enormous sense of hopefulness in this film. Paradoxically it centers around the angst of long term relationships and is crafted within the harshest of stylized realities. There are not many smiles. From the opening sequence in the hospital, where a troubled couple visits a terminally ill friend, to the closing rape on the golf course, there is hardly a laugh. This is true visually as well. During the titles the camera descends down the facade of a modern glass skyscraper which reflects the ant-like world of old Italy. There is a sense that Mussolini's victory could not have constructed something as authoritarian and dehumanizing. The final image, a shot of trees and grass devoid of people, has an eerie edge; even nature in this modern landscape has lost its charm. Yet despite all the gloom there is an unwavering trust in the power of the medium and a strong faith in the audience. He accurately renders his vision of the world and, most importantly, assumes the audience cares. He has created a film which centers around core issues of emotional well being and human interaction. Although this is standard fare for poets, the difficulties of achieving this numerous times in the medium of full length fiction films, cannot go unrecognized. It is the equivalent of raising an army of workers in order to build a highly personal, stylized monument to "the truth", to be visited by anyone who cared to make the trip. Certainly there would be those who would question the sanity of the instigator of such an undertaking, not to mention the sneers regarding the superfluous nature of this "gift". But one would be hard pressed to scoff at the dedication and respect such a builder would have for the general public.

La Notte is one such monument. Over the years the visitors have found the experience an enthralling meditation or a boring waste of time. The varied range of the response can be laid Antonioni's unique sense of design. La Notte abandons the general causal plot structure. The story is seemingly aimless. Nothing happens. A reconstruction of the specifics would read like a series of unrelated random events surrounding a couple experiencing marital difficulties. The two protagonists themselves are equally enigmatic. The husband is a successful writer with a intelligent, beautiful wife, who seems perfectly suited for his moody disposition. He is miserable. There is no reason given for his general unhappiness and, with a disconcerting nonchalance, the film debunks rational explanations for his melancholy. He is interested in nothing and his passion is aroused on a whim. Distraction via sexual encounters seems his central means of escaping his personal hell. His wife has a similar spiritual void, but is more emotionally aware and therefore more sympathetic. She embarks on an ill-defined quest in which she encounters men; young, old, smart, dumb, fighting, playing, drinking, working, carousing… who see her solely as an erotic object. Her reaction is ambivalence, not outright rejection. In the end she reflects on her relationship with her terminally ill friend, another male writer. Here was someone who believed in her, loved her and took her seriously. Unlike a majority of men she encounters he was not primarily motivated by sex. This is in sharp contrast to her spouse, who blends perfectly with the crowd of lechers. She admits to choosing her husband. This is not an epiphany but an underlying truth which she attempts to understand. There are no grandiose conclusions or pat answers.

This is my humble interpretation of some the events that occurred. An accurate description of "what happened?" would require a text similar in spirit to James Joyce's Finnegin's Wake. This can be attributed to Antonioni's use of photography, setting and sound to subtlety convey mood. Most filmmaker rely primarily on dialogue to express emotion. When that fails there is always mood music and the last resort of voice-over narration. All these devices are efficient ways of communicating plot and exposition. Clarity and brevity must be incorporated into all forms of art but Antonioni begs the question: at what cost? Once again the James Joyce example holds true - there are more efficient ways of telling the story but that would undercut the merits of what the author intended. The telling of the story holds as much weight as the story itself. A small example of the strength of Antonioni's method can be seen in the opening of the party sequence in La Notte. The gathering takes place at a rich industrialists' mansion. The driveway is strewn with cars. The couple pulls up and adds their Fiat to the pile. The silence contrasts sharply with the clutter of cars. It is almost as if they are in a junkyard after dark. The house is a tasteless hodgepodge of old and new architecture. The arches hint at the charm of antiquity but modern layout suggests a brave new world. As the married couple approaches, crowd noise is heard. They look around and see no one. They walk through the house, its interior matches the facade. The crowd noise increases as they enter the backyard. They look and see a large patio with empty tables and chairs. The juxtaposition of image and sound is jarring. There is no one here. The camera then shifts to the left to reveal the partygoers surrounding a large thoroughbred which the host has trotted out. Not a word of dialogue has been spoken thus far and yet the mood and characterization of the events has been beautifully rendered. When the wife of the industrialist greets the protagonists her words are meaningless. It is social chit-chat which meshes perfectly with the surroundings. Those surroundings and how they were shaped via the choreography, lighting and sound, tell the story. All that "happened" was the couple entered the house and encountered the hostess. A lesser director might have ignored the milieu and cut immediately to the wife of the industrialist and let her words convey the shallowness of the affair. The horse would have been used as a visual gag to buttress her statements. Her manner would have to be a bit "over the top" in order to quickly relate her own personality and the nature of the festivities. Given this small example it is easy to see the party itself becomes far more than the sum of its plot twists. The husband goes off with the industrialist's daughter, the wife discovers her friend has died when she calls the hospital, the industrialist offers a job to her husband, the wife goes off with another man… All these things occur but they are the tip of the iceberg when trying to accurately describe "what happened?".

It would be easy, with hindsight, to pick apart La Notte. Probable its major flaw lies in its lack of levity; although there are moments during the party sequence. Antonioni seems to fall into the sophomoric trap of mistaking the melancholy for the profound. But this error must be overlooked when measured against the admiration he has for his audience. As a veteran movie-goer, it seems contemporary filmmakers (whether Hollywood, European or Independent) share a mistrust of the public. Their goals are to shock, to soothe or to dazzle. Antonioni focuses on telling the truth; or more precisely his vision of it. This sounds bombastic and arrogant but Antonioni avoids this by being genuine. A small example of this can be seen in his portrayal of the industrialist in La Notte. This is a minor part; a small almost incidental figure in the grand scheme of the film. Yet Antonioni avoids making a easy characterture of a nouveau rich businessman. He renders, with care, an elegant portrait of a man who has "made it" in the world of business. It may be unflattering but it is not condescending. It is accurate to a point of being beyond pigeon-holing. The industrialist is past good or bad; he merely is. This is the essence of Antonioni's truth. His truth is not supreme or universal. Not everyone will care to glean the significance from objects or actors conventionally relegated to the role of background. If the current cinema is any measure of popular taste, a majority of people freely accept the notion of an intellectually passive audience. La Notte is not for everyone.

There are few, if any, contemporary film makers who follow Antonioni's tenants with regard to plot, characterization, use of scenery, use of sound… It is therefore not surprising that La Notte is as radical a film now, in 1992, then it was when it premiered in 1960. This does not mean the revolution has failed. Antonioni's films will, like all great works of art, survive the fickleness of fashion. Their integrity places them above the fray. They fall into that rarefied group of works which combine honesty of vision with genius in execution; in short they are classics. Whether one accepts the work it is important to recognize Antonioni's truth. It goes against the grain of most popular fiction filmmaking. It is the antithesis of MTV videos; a use of the medium featuring fast-paced, sound driven editing and the presentation of women, more often than not, as sexual objects void of thought. (Music videos may seem inconsequential but I would argue they have had an tremendous impact in shaping the public's visual expectations. One need only note the decreasing length of television commercials and the more frenetic editing of popular movies). Antonioni's goals may be absurd: to meticulously render fictional films to a point where a stylized vision of reality flaunts notions of simple categorization. He may not have found the truth. But, in examining the status quo, I submit it is a better truth.

Carnage (2011)

Roman’s Holiday

Roman Polanski is a force. Whatever one believes about his private life there is no erasing his mark as a director: Rosemary’s Baby, Chinatown, Macbeth... to list just a few. Directing is only one of his talents. He’s been acting and producing for decades as well. Unfortunately old age has seen a sad inverse relationship grow between his output and his notoriety. Having recently ducked a significant prison sentence for fleeing trial decades ago he returns to the screen with “Carnage” - a terse comedy of manners.

“Carnage” is an interesting choice for its minimalism. The “action” is confined to a few rooms and it moves in real time lasting an hour and a third. We see four seasoned actors playing two sides of the upwardly mobil divide. The plot centers around an incident where one of the couple’s middle school son assaults the other couple’s boy with a stick; resulting in the loss of two teeth. Jodi Foster and John C. Reilly play two strivers. He is a successful high end appliance salesman and she is a want-to-be writer who has global social concerns. Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz are successful banker/lawyers who are higher up the ladder who can barely hide their scorn at John and Jodi’s provincialism. The fact that their son as the aggressor makes them disposed to being amiable - but the facade seems to crack from the start.

Polanski’s choice of having the incident appear under the opening credits cleverly plays into the trivialness of the event which sparks the adult firestorm. There are dozens of intelligent, well meaning people who find themselves in violent confrontations over parking spaces, places on line, seating arrangements etc. This film is a homage to our pettiness which plays nicely against our belief in our superiority. Upwardly mobil Brooklynites are certainly fertile ground for funny social commentary. Oddly, given the credentials of all the principles, this project misses the mark.

Polanski knows a great deal about theater, acting and film. I personally watched him perform the lead in Amadeus in Paris and can attest to his skill beyond directing. No doubt he is familiar with the constraints of translating static, dialogue driven narratives to the large screen. Ironically his first major feature, “Knife in the Water”, takes place on a sailboat with three characters. This work is a triumph of directing and should be viewed by any filmmaker interested in making the most with limited space and personnel. “Repulsion” and “Death and the Maiden” were less successful artistically but once again Polanski did wonders with actors in small spaces. Unfortunately the master forgot his lesson; or didn’t bother to prepare for class. “Carnage” is claustrophobic and unfunny. Three of the four actors did their best. Christoph Watz performance was sub-par. This failed to aid the cause but the shortfall of the piece should be squarely laid on Polanski’s shoulders. Perhaps the veteran director fell prey to the idea that “light” comedy requires “light” preparation; or maybe Polanski isn’t that funny. It’s hard to know. Maybe he deserves kudos for trying something new rather than resting on his laurels. When a master stumbles - it’s important to examine the terrain. It strange but perhaps this hard-nosed erudite European, who has seen more in his lifetime than most, should have spent time with Seth Mcfarland. No doubt the creator of “Family Guy” and “American Dad” could teach him about social satire; in turn maybe Seth could learn something about real culture. It’s an odd pair but given Polanski’s extracurricular activities one sense they’d have a fair amount in common.

PS - I found it odd that Jodi Foster would choose to work with Polanski. I vividly remember watching her performance in “The Accused” - a heart-wrenching story based on actual events. A disadvantaged woman was gang raped in a bar and prosecutors balked at bringing charges. I’m not equating this tale with the accusations against Polanski. But there is no doubt that, given a cursory facts of the case, Mr. Polanski failed to act in the best interest of a young female child. Ms. Foster doesn’t need to publicly denounce him - but she doesn’t need to support him in a collaboration; ditto for Mel Gibson. Then again maybe it’s a sign of good character to come to the aid of friends who are in trouble. It’s hard to know.

The White Balloon (1995)

Don't Shoot - I'm Holding a White Balloon

When countries are hostile it is easy to view the opposing citizens as merely an extension of the government. Growing up during the cold war I did not distinguish between Lithuanians, Georgians and Asians living near Mongolia. I considered them all Russian Communists, period. It was hard to conceive of anything Russian without immediately making a link to politics. That all changed when I saw the movie Moscow Doesn't Believe in Tears. I remember very little of the plot line but this film drastically affected my view of the Soviet Union. For the first time there were Russians struggling with life's travails without a mention of Marx or Lenin. It is difficult in this age when every other cabdriver is from Kiev or St. Petersburg to imagine the impact of this simple movie. In short there were real people over there not just communist appachiks. The White Balloon, a Persian film featuring a seven year old, serves the same purpose as the earlier Russian feature. It dispels the notion that everyone living in Modern Iran is a radical Shiite cleric.

The White Balloon borrows from the Neo-realist tradition of De Sica & Sajit Ray with the sensitivity towards children of Earl Morris & Francios Truffaut. The director exhibits none of the greatness of these masters but he/she does show promise. The story is simple: a young girl needs to buy a goldfish before a national holiday. This is a Iranian tradition which is never explained. (Perhaps the goldfish is as obscure in meaning as the origin of the Easter bunny is in Western culture). The film branches out into equally elementary sub-plots: the girl nags her mother for money, she bargains with her older brother for help, the money is stolen, the money is returned, the money is lost, the money is found…

It is more captivating than it sounds but there were instants of ennui combined with unintended moments of tension. The boredom comes from the pressure of constructing a film which is entirely in 'real time' - i.e. time passes in the same manner for both characters and audience. There were too many pauses in which the characters sat around and strategized. The filmmakers could be afforded artistic license to 'keep the act moving'. This, however, was not as disconcerting as two other scenes which provoked unintended stress. In the first the little girl falls pray to a snake charmer who steals her money. It is difficult to imagine that in a large crowd of men no one would intervene to help the hysterical five year old. The scene drags on and becomes disturbingly out of context with the rest of the film. The fact that the other snake charmer finally comes to her aid is of little comfort. The damage has been done. In the second sequence a young soldier stops to talk to the girl at length. When a young man temps a child into conversation with candy (which she continually refuses) one can, with very little provocation, believe that this adult is a pederast. It is only after the long sequence is over that the audience realizes that this young man is telling the truth. The young girl reminds him of his little sister. Unfortunately it all comes too late. The pay-off of the scene is devoured in worries that she is in danger. These instants should not detract from the overall attractiveness of the film. The little girl is wonderful as is her brother and many of the numerous cameos. The cast was at ease and believable. This is no small feat considering the age of the protagonists and the use of non-professional performers in real-life locations.

The White Balloon's significance lies outside of the cinematic. This work is interesting precisely because of its origin. It presents modern Iran in an unpolitical light. If one looks closely all the women are covered (arms and heads). Aside of this peculiarity there are no signs of the fundamentalist regime - no mullahs or calls to prayer. This is not to infer that the country would be palatable to a Westerner. It is important, however, to view 'the other side' as human. Even the most ardent opponent of the Ayatollah would find the film agreeable and learn unexpected tid-bits about that society. (e.g. the young balloon seller, referred to as the 'Afghan boy', looks strikingly Asian). Anyone who believes that communication between our two cultures is satisfactory should be reminded of a bit of patriotic chauvinism that was proudly displayed by many Americans in the not so distant past. It was a black button with huge block white capital letters which read: FUCK IRAN. I doubt many people would adhere to that statement after watching The White Balloon.